


All Clean

by rubberupandmakeitstarker



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Blow Jobs, Broken Bones, Hand Jobs, M/M, Premature Ejaculation, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 17:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberupandmakeitstarker/pseuds/rubberupandmakeitstarker
Summary: After breaking both of his arms, Peter needs help with basically everything until they heal. It is decided that Tony, who doesn't really have anything pressing to do during the day, should be the one to assist Peter with... anything he may need.





	All Clean

Peter is equally as embarrassed as he is annoyed, lying in bed with both arms in casts. He is under strict instructions to keep his arms still and dry, which was fine at first, but has become its own special hell. He can’t pee by himself, he can’t shower by himself, he can’t go to school until they are healed and perhaps worst of all, he can’t jerk off.

Under normal circumstances, that wouldn’t be a huge deal. Peter is a hormonal teenage boy, but he can handle a few days without getting off. The problem is that he isn’t able to be home alone. He literally can’t get out of bed by himself without risking falling and hurting himself more. May has to work, and so it was decided that they should find someone without a day job who is close to Peter to come help out.

Enter Tony Stark.

Having Tony around the house all day sounded like a dream at first, and for the first couple hours it was. Tony hangs out in Peter’s room, talks to him, grabs him food and drinks when he needs it, and handles super important work phone calls right there in his room. It’s awesome. Until Peter needs to pee. And Tony has to take him to the bathroom. And hold his dick for him to pee.

It has been several hours, and Peter can’t think of anything else, every lewd thought he has ever had about Tony replays in his mind, now with the knowledge of what his hand on his cock feels like. His blankets do nothing to cover his erection, and he can’t move his arms to casually cover it as he normally would, meaning he spends a lot of his time with his knee bent to (less than casually) keep his erection hidden.

This doesn’t get easier as the days go by. Tony caring for Peter, itching his scratches, brushing his hair, changing his clothes. So many simple interactions that shouldn’t turn Peter on nearly as much as they do start to accumulate into what Peter can only define as torture.

With no way to relieve the pressure that is steadily building with each passing day, Peter just has to hope that he won’t get hard in Tony’s hand when he uses the bathroom, or when Tony changes his clothes, when it would be the most humiliating. So far he hasn’t, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t fantasize about it happening, and Tony cooing something into his ear before generously jerking him off. He might think about this after Tony goes home at night. He might rut into the blanket draped over his body as it plays out in his head, desperate for something, anything on his cock.

5 days in, Peter wakes up, a gasp caught in his throat and his hips rocking into the minuscule friction his blankets provide. His stomach burns with arousal, and Peter whimpers quietly as he chases the orgasm that had been spooling up inside him. He tries to retrieve the dream, something about Tony’s head between his thighs, but soon his hips come to a halt on the bed and he sighs shakily. His cock lies leaking and painful on his stomach, and if he were able to move his arms without shooting pain, he might risk the integrity of his casts to finish the job.

“Do I… need to change your clothes, Pete?”

All of the blood leaves Peter’s face as he snaps his head to see Tony sitting by his bed, actively repressing a smirk. Peter is mortified, tears pricking at his eyes as he splutters, “Oh my god, I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I’m so gross, you can leave if you want to I can figure out a way to take care of myself I’m so sorry you had to see-“

“Hey.” Tony says simply, his soft tone immediately quieting Peter. “It’s okay. You were asleep, and then you thought you were alone. It’s fine. But if you, ah, finished, I will need to change your clothes.”

The color returns full-force to Peter’s face as he slowly shakes his head. “I didn’t… finish.”

“Ouch. Poor kid.” Tony coos. It’s meant to be comforting, but Peter’s head snatching in the other direction tells him that he missed the mark. “It almost would have been better if you had. May asked me to help you get a shower today.” Tony sees the immediate horror play over Peter’s face and quickly adds, “We’re going to give it a while, though. Maybe after breakfast.”

After breakfast and a few awkward conversations, Peter finds himself completely naked in front of Tony fucking Stark. Peter has thought about this happening many, many times before. But those thoughts usually didn’t involve Tony being fully clothed, and they never involved both of his arms wrapped up in plastic trash bags to keep his casts dry.

His body doesn’t seem to be able to tell the difference, though, his cock standing at full attention as Tony carefully runs a washcloth over his body. Peter stares at the ceiling, his face beet-red.

Tony, who’d purposefully been avoiding looking at Peter’s cock for the sake of his decency, can’t stop the quiet, surprised “oh” that pops out of him mouth when he moves down Peter’s body and sees his erection.

“I’m sorry.” Peter whimpers to the ceiling, wishing the floor would swallow him.

“It’s alright.” Tony says calmly. He takes a short pause, finally asking, “Is it okay if I wash you?”

Peter blinks at the ceiling. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I can do it or May can do it, it’s up to you.” Tony says. “I will try to be quick, unless you would be more comfortable with May. I understand if you don’t want some old guy touching your junk.”

“I don’t care that you’re old.” Peter murmurs a little too fast.

Tony chuckles softly. “You don’t?”

Less than prepared for Tony’s warm hand wrapping around his cock, Peter gasps sharply at the sensation. His eyes finally leave the ceiling and land on Tony’s.

“Well, I will just wash you, then.” Tony says smoothly. He removes his hand only for a second, rubbing a bar of soap over his palm before returning to Peter’s cock. He strokes him fluidly, suds easing the movements. It is immediately obvious that Peter isn’t going to last very long, the boy’s toes digging into the shower floor and his knees threatening to buckle while he keens loudly. It suddenly occurs to Tony that Peter has no way to catch himself if he crumples to the floor, and takes the opportunity to ease him down to avoid any new injuries.

His back pressed to the cold shower wall, Peter’s mouth hangs open as he watches Tony crawl under the stream of water on his hands and knees. His dress shirt is soaked and slightly translucent, eyes dark as he crowds Peter’s space.

“This alright?” Tony asks gently, waiting for Peter’s fervent nod before dipping his head between Peter’s legs. The water has washed the suds away from Peter’s now spotless cock, perfect and waiting for Tony’s mouth to envelop it. Tony wastes no time, taking Peter down to the hilt and bobbing his head quickly, relentlessly, pleased at the beat of stunned silence followed by Peter wailing above him.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter squeals when heat starts to spread in his belly, wishing his hands were free to grab at Tony’s hair, or shoulders, or anything that he could steady his trembling form against. The pressure is building behind his cock way faster than he can handle, his thighs shaking in Tony’s hands and a sob pouring out of his mouth. “I’m-I’m!”

Peter’s hips snatching and hot fluid bursting over his tongue before Peter can even finish his warning come as no surprise to Tony, and he happily swallows what he is given. He sits back on his haunches, looking over Peter’s disheveled form with a pleased smirk. “All clean.”

Peter blinks, his brain requiring a full 5 seconds to remember the original reason they were here. He giggles weakly, murmuring, “Thanks, for, uh… that.”

“Anytime.” Tony winks, standing up and helping Peter to his feet. He looks down at his dripping clothes, undoing the top three buttons of his shirt before tugging it over his head. “We should probably get out, hm? I need to get these clothes in the dryer before May gets home.”

Peter looks down at Tony’s pants, his erection obvious in his drenched slacks. “Can you..?”

Tony doesn’t have to ask what Peter is requesting, the new blush blooming over his cheeks telling him what he needs to know. He drops his shirt on the floor and pulls his cock from his pants, stroking himself for Peter to see.

The rest of Peter’s healing time goes by significantly faster, and once he is finally free from his casts, he uses his functional hands to return Tony’s favor.


End file.
